The song grew clearer the closer we got to the edge.
Not louder—just… sharper. Each note slid beneath the roar of the waves and lodged itself somewhere behind my eyes, threading through memory and instinct with practiced ease. It wasn't aggressive. It didn't need to be. It invited.
My chest tightened.
"Don't listen to it," Mira snapped, though her own jaw was clenched hard enough to hurt. "Focus on the ground. On your breathing."
"Trying," I panted, boots skidding slightly on damp stone as the path narrowed. The cliffside trail curved ahead of us, hugging the rock face with nothing but a low, crumbling barrier between us and a very long fall.
The wind howled, tugging at my jacket like insistent fingers.
[Oh, she's clever,] Aetherion murmured.
[Notice how the melody never quite repeats? It adapts. Searches.]
'Stop analyzing it,' I shot back mentally. 'You're not helping.'
[On the contrary, I'm fascinated.]
I scanned the path ahead, heart hammering. "Theo!" I shouted, my voice ripped apart by the wind almost immediately. "Theo, answer me!"
Nothing.
Only the sea—and the song.
Mira slowed, crouching briefly near the edge of the trail. "Footprints," she said sharply. "Fresh. He came this way."
My stomach dropped. The prints were uneven, dragging in places, like he'd been walking without fully being there.
"God, he's still half in it," I muttered.
[Or wholly,] Aetherion corrected.
[The illusion doesn't need to be complete if the desire is strong enough.]
We moved faster, even as my lungs burned and my legs threatened to give out. The cliffside opened ahead into a wider outcropping, jagged stone overlooking a stretch of black water far below. Waves slammed against the rocks with violent rhythm, sending mist spiraling upward like ghostly hands.
The song was strongest here.
I staggered slightly as it brushed against my thoughts—not words, not images, just a sensation. Warmth. Relief. A promise of rest.
I clenched my teeth until my jaw ached.
"Don't stop," Mira said, gripping my sleeve when she noticed. "Look at me. Stay with me."
I forced my gaze onto her face—focused, determined, real. The pull weakened, just enough.
"Thanks," I breathed.
Then I saw him.
"Theo!" I shouted.
He stood near the edge, a few meters ahead, posture loose, shoulders relaxed in a way I hadn't seen in weeks. The wind tugged at his hair and jacket, but he didn't seem to notice. His head was tilted slightly, like he was listening to something only he could hear.
The sea churned below him.
Mira swore under her breath. "Okay. Slow. Careful."
[Ah, there he is,] Aetherion said quietly.
[Balanced between longing and loss. A very delicate moment.]
Theo took a step forward.
"THEO—!" My voice cracked as I lunged, heart slamming painfully against my ribs.
He didn't turn.
The song swelled — just a fraction.
And the distance between us suddenly felt far, far too large.
"Theo, stop!"
My shout tore out of me raw, desperate, but it barely reached him. The wind stole most of it, flinging the sound out over the water where it vanished into the crash of waves and the ever-present song.
Theo took another step.
Slow. Unhurried. Like someone approaching a long-awaited destination.
"Don't run," Mira hissed, gripping my arm hard enough to bruise. "If we spook him—"
"He's about to walk off a cliff," I snapped back, already moving again.
Theo's boots crunched softly against gravel as he advanced. Each step brought him closer to the edge, closer to the waves of endless water below. The mist clung to him, wrapping around his legs, his waist, like it wanted to claim him.
The song coiled tighter around my thoughts.
Not for you, it whispered.
But wouldn't it be nice?
I stumbled, heart lurching, and Mira hauled me upright without breaking stride.
"Eyes on me," she said sharply. "Breathe. In. Out."
I obeyed, barely.
Aetherion was quiet now. Too quiet.
'Say something,' I urged him mentally. 'Please.'
[…Careful,] he replied at last, his voice subdued.
[Whatever has him doesn't want resistance. It wants surrender. If you rush him, it may push him faster.]
"Great," I muttered. "Any useful advice?"
[Talk to him,] Aetherion said.
[But not about leaving. Not yet.]
Theo paused.
Just for a heartbeat.
Hope flared in my chest. "Theo," I called again, forcing my voice to steady. "Hey. It's me. Yuwon."
He tilted his head slightly, as if the name brushed against something distant. For a moment, I thought he might turn.
Then the sea roared louder, a wave smashing against the cliffside below, spraying cold mist into the air.
Theo exhaled.
A soft, content sound.
"No," Mira whispered. "No, no—"
He stepped again.
The edge was only a few paces away now. One wrong move, one slip, and—
I broke into a sprint.
Mira cursed but followed immediately, boots pounding against stone as we closed the distance. My lungs screamed, vision narrowing, every instinct screaming at me to move faster.
"Theo!" I shouted, voice cracking. "Wait! Please—just wait!"
He reached the very edge.
The wind tugged violently at his jacket, the sea yawning beneath him like an open mouth. He stood there, perfectly balanced, arms loose at his sides, eyes fixed on the horizon where the water met the sky.
The song was deafening now.
Not sound—feeling.
Peace.
Rest.
An end to struggle.
I skidded to a halt a few meters behind him, terrified that even the sound of my approach might be enough to tip him forward.
Mira stopped beside me, chest heaving. Her face had gone pale.
"Theo," she said softly this time. Not commanding. Not panicked. Just… honest. "You're not alone."
He didn't respond.
His heel shifted, pebbles tumbling over the edge and vanishing into the void below. My heart stopped with them.
[He's listening,] Aetherion murmured.
[But not to us.]
Theo leaned forward, just slightly, like someone peering into deep water.
My hands trembled.
I took one careful step closer.
Then another.
"Theo," I said again, quieter now, my voice shaking despite my best efforts. "I know it feels good. I know it feels… warm. But it's lying to you."
For the first time, his fingers twitched.
Mira sucked in a sharp breath.
I swallowed hard. "You don't have to go anywhere. You don't have to rest forever to be allowed to stop hurting."
The wind howled.
The sea surged.
Theo lifted one foot.
And for one horrifying moment, it felt like we were already too late.
Theo's foot crossed the edge.
Time fractured.
I lunged forward on instinct, fingers grasping at empty air, my nails scraping uselessly against the damp stone. The world narrowed to the space between Theo's heel and the void beneath it, to the roar of blood in my ears, to Mira's sharp intake of breath beside me.
"Theo—!"
He tipped forward.
The song swelled, triumphant and tender all at once.
Then—something moved.
Not from beside us.
From behind.
The air cracked like a whip.
A blur tore past my peripheral vision, wind pressure slamming into me so hard I staggered back a step. Gravel exploded outward as a figure crossed the cliff path in less than a second, boots barely touching the ground.
Agent Vern hit Theo full-force.
The impact was brutal and precise—an arm locking around Theo's torso, the other hooking under his shoulder as Vern twisted mid-motion, momentum carrying both of them away from the edge instead of over it. They slammed into the ground hard, rolling, stone biting into fabric and skin.
Theo screamed.
The sound snapped something inside my chest loose.
They came to a stop barely a meter from the cliff, Vern braced over Theo like a living anchor, one knee dug into the ground, one hand clamped around Theo's wrist with inhuman strength.
Theo thrashed.
"Let go!" he gasped, eyes glassy, unfocused. "I was almost there—"
"No," Vern growled, voice low and iron-hard. "You were almost dead."
The words cut through the air like a blade.
Theo bucked again, strength surging in a way that didn't belong to him, but Vern didn't budge. Dark veins pulsed faintly along Vern's neck and arms, the subtle telltale marks of contamination flaring as he reinforced his grip.
The song shrieked.
Not aloud—but inside my skull.
I staggered, Mira catching my arm again, her jaw clenched, eyes blazing as she forced herself forward.
Behind us, footsteps approached — measured, controlled, unmistakable.
"Vern."
Team Leader Silva's voice carried easily over the wind and the surf. Calm. Commanding. Anchoring.
She stepped into view, eyes immediately locking onto the scene before her. One glance was all it took to assess the situation.
"Status," she said.
"Got him," Vern replied through clenched teeth. "Barely. Core's influence is still active, but weaker."
Silva's gaze flicked to me and Mira. "You sealed it?"
"Yes," Mira said, breathless. "But it was too late for him. He slipped away before the containment took hold."
Silva nodded once. No blame. No hesitation. Just acceptance and action.
"Theo," she said firmly, crouching down into his line of sight. "Look at me."
Theo's eyes darted wildly, tears streaking down his temples, his expression torn between terror and longing.
"It was peaceful," he whispered. "I was so tired, Chief… I just wanted it to stop."
"I know," Silva said softly. "And you will rest. But not like this."
The song wavered.
I felt it—felt the anomaly recoil, its grip fraying now that the core was sealed, its influence reduced to a dying echo clawing for purchase.
Theo's struggles weakened.
Vern adjusted his hold carefully, easing Theo upright without letting go. "He's coming back," he muttered. "Slowly."
Theo's gaze finally cleared enough to find us.
Mira dropped to her knees beside him, hands shaking as she reached out, then hesitated, like she was afraid he might disappear if she touched him too hard.
"You scared the hell out of us," she said, voice breaking.
Theo blinked. "Mira…?"
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, closing my eyes as I felt my legs ache.
Aetherion stirred within me, relief heavy in his tone.
[That was… uncomfortably close.]
Silva straightened, scanning the cliffs and the sea beyond, her expression grim but resolved. "We're not done," she said. "But we got him back."
The waves crashed below us, furious and disappointed.
And for the first time since reaching the cliffside, the song began to fade.